Page 17 of Pour Decisions
I tell her the town, which turns out to be about two-and-a-half hours from where we live.
“Okay, that’s not bad. Not so far that you can’t go visit, but far enough that no one can do a random pop-by without notice.”
“No one will be visiting or popping by,” I tell her. “Nothing is going to come of this, no matter who lives where. I just need to apologize. Again. For doubting him. It’s a professional courtesy. I don’t want anyone in this industry with a poor impression of me.”
“Well, it’s way too late for that,” Tess teases.
“You aren’t funny.”
“The audience at my improv would disagree.”
“You don’t do improv,” I say.
“Don’t I?”
And I have to stop and think about it for a moment. Because improv is something Tess would totally do. And she’d do it in secret, probably excelling at it, like she does everything else. “Do you?”
“I’ll never tell,” she says.
It drives me crazy when she does that. I can’t keep a secret to save my life. Tess could take something as ordinary as the color of her socks to the grave.
“Why don’t you just go talk to him at the competition today?” she asks.
“I’m not allowed in.”
“Just because they disqualified you doesn’t mean you can’t go as a spectator.”
“Actually, it does,” I tell her. I’d left that part of the story out. Not for any good reason, just because it further cemented my embarrassment about the whole thing. But if you can’t be humiliated in front of your best friend, who can you be? “Barbara said I wasn’t welcome back to any of their events in the near future, if ever at all again.”
“Wow, that’s hard core.”
“I know.”
“Okay, then just go to his hotel room tonight.”
“No way am I going to his hotel room again at night.”
“Why not? The damage is done. What more could happen?”
She’s right.
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I concede.
“Good, lets figure out what you’re going to wear.”
“I said I’d think about it, not that it was a done deal.”
“When’s the last time you had sex?”
“Night before last.”
“I mean before that.”
“It was a while.”
“Like over a year.”
“So?”
